


Moping

by Million_Moments



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, London, Meddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1265119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Million_Moments/pseuds/Million_Moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has found himself in charge of an enormous team with all the resources he could ever need, and yet he is still accused of being grumpy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moping

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn’t sure what to do with this but eventually decided to publish it as a standalone story.

Budgets. It was something he had always heard the Commissioner go on about. “You should meet him/her/them,” he’d tell Richard. “He/She/They are very influential on the island, and help decide police budgets.” In all but the most essential of circumstances he had wriggled out of it though, sometimes looking pitifully at Camille until she gave in and went in his place – sometimes telling outright lies about being too busy on a case.

But budgets were how he had ended up here, at some anonymous police station in a London suburb. Not Croydon, he would never go back to work at Croydon.  When he received, quite unexpectedly, a letter from The Met congratulating him on his excellent work on Saint Marie and informing him of his promotion to Detective Chief Inspector, he had been pleased for all of 10 seconds. Then he realised the promotion came with a transfer back to London. He’d kept quiet, gone to the Commissioner, but been informed quite firmly that Saint Marie couldn’t afford to pay a DCI – the wage simply wasn’t in those damn budgets. And no, he could not take the promotion without the pay rise. The Commissioner had seemed to think such a thing was demeaning. Richard the postured the idea of just refusing the promotion altogether, but was told very firmly by the HR officer back in London that his replacement was being sent out no matter what – he could be a DCI in London, or he could be a DI in London.

The detectives in CID here were not a bad lot – but there were so many of them, and he struggled to really _know_ any of them. The Inspectors got nervous if he turned up at a scene, a Chief Inspector was largely only expected to do so in exceptional cases. He also knew they thought he was a bit weird, with his whiteboard in the corner of his office, instead of using HOLMES2. His rank meant nobody dared comment though, in fact no one dared tease him at all. Well, nearly no one. There was one member of the team who shot the odd cheeky comment his way.

In the first two weeks he noticed one of the younger Detective Constables was trailed around by a DS…when it really should be the other way round. He watched them with interest, wondering if the woman was somehow manipulating or maybe even blackmailing her senior officer to reduce the man to such complacency. It was with a jolt he realised the pair were sleeping together – in fact more than that, seemed very much in love. That didn’t surprise him particularly, “office romances” were not uncommon in Police stations actually. The only people who could understood the obsession and the long hours that came with the job were often limited to other police officers. No, what shocked him was the fact _he_ was able to tell it was going on. Clearly he had picked up a few skills from being around Camille.

Richard only ever commented on their relationship once. He arrived early, as he was often warrant to do, and as he passed the small kitchen next to CID where people made coffee or heated stuff in the microwave he realised they were in there, kissing. “Not at work!” he shouted, without even pausing. He didn’t think it was a particularly harsh request.

Later, a highly embarrassed Detective Sergeant Charles Brookes had come to his office to offer a stuttering apology for his behaviour. Richard got the feeling it had probably not been _his_ idea to kiss in the kitchen, and informed the officer his apologies were unnecessary as long as there was no repeat performance. He then asked Brookes to send in Carter.

Carter stood before him without any trace of embarrassment. She was respectful, but did not appear to be the least bit ashamed of having been caught snogging by her superior officer in the break room. Truth be told, Richard wasn’t expecting her to be. She was far too confident, far too cheeky, and quite probably going to get away with it entirely. Because she reminded him of somebody else.

“Brookes will follow your lead,” He told her seriously. He meant it, he was pretty sure the man would jump off Tower Bridge if she told him to. “So tone it down. I don’t care what you do outside of work, in fact I think having a life outside of the job is important, but no public displays of affection here, ok?”

“Yes, Sir,” Carter told him. He believed she would obey him. She was looking at him now, waiting to be dismissed, and he realised that telling her not to kiss her boyfriend at the office was not the real reason he’d called her in.

“And don’t break his heart,” he told her, before he could stop himself. “Or at least try not to.”

“I...” She began, clearly taken aback by his instructions. After a moment, she said firmly, “I love him, Sir.”

“Then hopefully we won’t have a problem. You can go back to work now,” he went back to his paperwork, but didn’t hear the office door open and then shut behind her. He looked back up to find her standing there, dawdling.

“It’s Winters’ birthday today,” she said.

“Right,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet and removing a twenty. “Go get some cake or spend it on a round, whatever is more preferable.”

“Uh, Sir, I thought you might like to come with us?”

He looked up in surprise, “That’s nice of you to ask Carter, but I do realise nobody wants to DCI to come to the party, so…” He waved the note towards her again, but she still didn’t take it.

“Was that how it worked in Saint Marie, Sir? I mean, you were the Police Chief there, right?” Richard hadn’t expected her to start asking him about his old posting. Perhaps that is why he ended up answering honestly, instead of insisting she leave.

“Um, no, we were a much smaller team. We quite often went to a bar, owned actually by Camille’s mother.” She raised an eyebrow at the name Camille so he explained, “She was my Detective Sergeant.” He regretted using the word ‘my’ in case Carter read anything into it. She was giving him a soft, sympathetic look.

“You miss them, Sir?”

Of course he did, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it. “Carter, I am not sure how this is relevant. I believe you do have a job to do.”

“Yes Sir,” she said, and turned obediently to leave. He resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief. But, once again, she failed to actually open the door. She turned around quickly and said, “It’s just you do spend a lot of time moping in your office, Sir.”

“ _Moping_?” He bit out, annoyed. “I do _not_ mope!” The protest was probably a little too vehement. Carter seemed quite pleased she had managed to get a reaction from him.

“Yes, Sir, you do. We thought…”

“We?” He interrupted sharply, concerned that he may be a source of gossip in CID.

“I and an undisclosed number of other female officers,” was how Carter chose to answer. Richard suspected she was talking about herself and the other two female DCs Winters and Lee. This made him feel a bit better. “We feel that perhaps you might have, oh I don’t know, had to leave somebody behind…”

“Once again, I do not think this has anything to do with police work!” He was getting worked up now, stressed out. Carter could perhaps sense that, because she took half a step back.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t mean to pry I just thought, well, you won’t get over her moping and throwing yourself into the job. So maybe you should come with us to the pub.”

“I don’t mope, and I didn’t leave anybody behind and there is nobody to get over! Detective Constable, you are dismissed!”

“Sir,” She said, and finally left. Richard was pretty sure she would be reporting her findings to Winters and Lee within minutes. He tried to concentrate on the paper work for all of 30 seconds, then gave up and opened the top draw of his desk. On top lay a photograph of Camille, smiling brightly and beautiful as ever. It had been in a whole stack he had received from the team as part of his leaving present. One day, when he was feeling brave, he had brought it in intending to put it on his desk along with some others. Lots of officers had pictures of friends and family on their desks, why shouldn’t he? But he chickened out, because he thought people would ask about them, and might learn more about him than he wanted them too. He shut the draw.

Richard felt a little bad now, shouting at Carter. The detective had been out of line, but at the same time he realised she was also trying to help him. Pushing at his walls because she worried about him being alone. He’d let Camille get away with it, he’d let Camille in – too far in. Now they were an ocean apart and struggling to stay in contact. The night before he was due to leave, he had considered just grabbing her and kissing her. But when he’d thought about it – both possible outcomes had terrified him. If she pushed him off, disgusted, because she didn’t care for him in the way he hoped – well he’d be humiliated and heart broken. At least now he was just heart broken. But if she kissed him back, well, he doubted he would be able to stop there. He’d want to take her home and make love to her, but then in the morning he would get up and take a plane across the Atlantic. When would they see each other? And how often - twice a year if they were lucky? It didn’t seem right, it would probably all fall apart and he would know _exactly_ what he had lost. He imagined that heart break would be worse than this.

With a sigh, he resolved that he would try and pop into the station’s local (which was, after all, right next to the place) for at least ten minutes that evening.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, Camille sat on the beach and went through all the arguments she had used the first time round to convince herself there was no use starting a relationship with a man who was going 4000 miles away. Because she had seriously considered it. Had thought about just turning up at his place, or physically dragging him to hers, and taking him to bed. She got the impression that Fidel, Dwayne and even her mother had expected her to do _something._ So why hadn’t she?

The time difference - that was a big one. It got in the way now when they were still just trying to keep in contact as friends. There never seemed to be a good time to call, either he was at work or she was. He had called her once on a Saturday, but she had been forced to ring off after ten minutes as she had plans with her mother. He’d been very understanding, blaming himself for not realising that of course she had plans, and had never attempted to call her at the weekend again. Camille had never been brave enough to try him, in case she found _he_ had plans…

Then there was the fact that even if they found enough time to speak on the phone, could that replace them barely seeing each other in person? It wasn’t just about sex…okay, it was largely about sex. Camille had been pretty certain if she had slept with him before he left, all it would have achieved was to let her know exactly what she was missing. The flights weren’t cheap, and police officers did not earn enough for them to afford to maybe take more than two trips a year. That is if they even managed to get time off together.

And then there was the fact they couldn’t carry on long distance forever. Eventually a decision would have to be made. She would have to leave and move to London, or he would have to quit his job and come back to Saint Marie.

Finally, the one that had really convinced her not to mention the possibility, was that she was not actually sure of his feelings for her. It would have been humiliating to be rejected, going into work and having Dwayne and Fidel edge around her. Yes, in the end, it had been largely fear that had prevented her from taking that final step.

Camille pulled out the scrap of paper from the pocket of her shorts. It was the number for Richard’s new station in some suburb of London she had never actually heard of. She had a very legitimate reason to call him at work. Their latest murder enquiry was of a businessman visiting the island, whose family lived only a couple of streets from Richard’s station. They needed somebody to interview them, and surely Richard would be the person to contact about arranging that? Fidel had immediately passed her the number, assuming she would want to do so, and she did _so much_. She just needed to take a moment to convince herself she had been right to let him go before she spoke to him again.

She had failed, but the phone call still needed to be made.

 

* * *

 

 

“Chingford CID, DC Carter speaking.” There was silence on the end of the line, and Carter hoped this wasn’t some creep. “Hello?”

“Sorry, I thought I had the number for Rich- for DCI Poole.” The accent sounded French, and belonged to a woman, which immediately intrigued Carter.

“No, this is the general number for CID, I would transfer you to DCI Poole however he is out at the moment. Perhaps you could give me a name and a message to pass along?”

“Um, my name is Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey with the Saint Marie Police Force…”

“Where DCI Poole was stationed before here?” Whoops, bit rude to cut her off like that, but Carter’s excitement had gotten the better of her. Across the room Winters shot her an enquiring look, and she flapped a hand to indicate she would pass on any and all details once she was off the phone…Brookes was shaking his head at her to indicate he disapproved of any attempts she might make to garner more information about their boss for what he referred to as her ‘nefarious romantic plotting’. She just winked at him, which caused him to sigh.

“That’s right, uh,” there was a brief paused and then Camille asked, “Um, so he has mentioned us then?”

“Well, a bit, but you know it’s been pretty obvious he wishes he was still assigned there!” She said brightly. Brookes had closed his eyes in despair. Carter thought her statement wasn’t _that_ bad. She simply couldn’t let this opportunity pass. During the conversation with DCI Poole, she hadn’t failed to notice the way he spoke of Camille as ‘his’ rather than ‘the’ Detective Sergeant. There had, for the briefest of moments, been a wistful expression on his face and Carter had known she, Winters and Lee had been correct when they debated if their DCI was a little bit heartbroken.

“Really?” The Detective Sergeant asked. It wasn’t a disbelieving ‘really’, it sounded like a hopeful sort of query. “I would have thought he’d be glad to get away from all the heat and the sand and back to proper tea and fish and chips.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, all I know is he spends a lot of time moping about. Truth be told I thought maybe he had some woman on Saint Marie he left behind and missed. He does quite often resemble a heartbroken teenager.” Brookes looked horrified now, and even Carter thought that might have been a bit over the mark. After all, this Bordey woman might tell the Chief Inspector what she had said, it was a hell of a gamble she had just made. DCI Poole seemed to have forgiven her for her first attempt at prying, but would be unlikely to do so again.

“Right,” the woman on the end of the phone said, as if she had just had some sort of major revelation. “Well, we miss him as well.” Oh Carter just bet _she_ did.   

“Was that your message?” She asked. “Because I think if I passed that on he’d just get flustered…” She added cheekily at the end.

Carter held her breath, but Camille laughed, “Yes, he isn’t brilliant with emotions, is he?”

“Not the sort of man to make the first move, either.” Brookes now looked like he was considering pulling the phone from its socket. He wouldn’t though, because they both knew he was also not the sort of man who made the first move.

Camille didn’t respond to that, but Carter was pretty sure she had noted it. “My message concerns the fact that a man local to your area has been killed in Saint Marie. We’d appreciate your co-operation with the investigation. If DCI Poole isn’t there I will email over the details.”

“Oh he’s just walked in, oh no wait, he’s been waylaid by Didcot. I don’t know if he did leave a woman on Saint Marie but I’ll tell you this, Didcot is certainly doing her best to make him forget about her!” That was, of course, a complete an utter lie. There was no Didcot – it was the name of the town where Carter had grown up. And DCI Poole was very much not here. She just wanted to give Camille something additional to think about. “I’ll make sure he gets your message though. Bye!” She hung up.

Brookes levelled her with a look, “You are completely mental. What are you up to, trying to set them up? Who the hell is Didcot? Or was that just an attempt to goad her into flying to London to claim her man before somebody else did?”

“Well, yes,” Carter told him. “Are you telling me you don’t think he has been moping since he got here?”

“No, I think he has, but that doesn’t mean you need to make it your business to try and solve it! Who do you think you are, Emma Woodhouse? Carter they live on different sides of the Atlantic Ocean!”

The Austen reference was rather unexpected, but Brookes had a tendency to surprise her – it was one of the things she loved about him. “I’m not - hey, look, I just couldn’t let the opportunity pass, ok? Besides, my matchmaking efforts _have_ worked in the past!” He didn’t respond, just went back to his work. Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “Are you _very_ mad at me?”

“No,” he said with a small sigh. “I’m just a little worried if DCI Poole finds out he’ll be transferring you 4000 miles away…”

That, Carter thought, was a real possibility.

 

* * *

 

 

Since the incident where they had been caught in a compromising position in the break room, Brookes had started to make a concerted effort to get to work before Carter. They both lived within walking distance, and it was rare they spent the night apart, but Carter was not exactly a morning person. He was usually ready for work before she had even considered if she should shower or not. He was hoping his boss would notice this and realise how seriously he had taken the reprimand. DCI Poole was nearly always the first one into the office, Brookes the second or third now he didn’t wait for Carter. After a week of arriving without her, Poole had one morning walked up to him and awkwardly asked if everything was okay been him and Carter. Equally embarrassed, and mildly confused as to why his boss would care, he explained their relationship was just fine but he was a lark whereas she was a bit more of an owl. DCI Poole had muttered some response and gone off to mope in his office some more.

Oh _God_ , now Brookes was using the phrase mope in relation to his boss as well.

He was willing to admit he preferred Carter’s insane plan of trying to get their boss together with this Bordey woman (even though she had nothing more to go on then her instincts that Bordey was the one Poole was pining over, and that Bordey felt the same way) a lot more than Winters’ and Lee’s plan to set him up with every single detective they could think of from here to Inverness. And he liked it a hell of a lot more than the suggestion made to him by Bailey that they invite him to Singh’s stag party to see if he liked any of the ‘entertainment’ that was to be provided.

Overall, Brooke’s preferred plan would be to leave the poor man alone. But he recognised there was no way that was going to happen. Coming through the front entrance, he noticed a remarkably beautiful and really quite annoyed French woman was arguing with the civilian who manned the front desk.

“Ma’am you have to be a registered visitor to come on site,” the receptionist repeated wearily. “DCI Poole has no guests registered for today, or this week even! And then you need somebody to escort you at all times.”

“Well it’s, I didn’t, um, he doesn’t know I’m coming to visit! It was all approved rather last minute,” She argued back. “Besides, I _am_ a police officer, see!”

Brookes caught site of the woman’s ID with a badge he recognised as being from the Saint Marie Police Force. This caused him to come to a complete stop. If this worked out, Carter would be bloody unbearable this evening.

“Sorry, Detective Sergeant Bordey?” He asked, stepping up to the counter to address her.

“Um, yes,” she was obviously surprised he knew her name.

“Mandy, I’ll take Bordey up and register her as soon as I am at my desk. She is working a case in conjunction with us. You don’t mind making an exception for one of our fellow officers just this once?” He shot her his best smile, which wasn’t exactly charming but he so rarely asked for favours that he knew she would give in. Besides, Mandy looked pretty keen to be rid of Bordey. She gave a tight nod and Brookes politely held open the door for Bordey, who dragged her case behind her.

“I didn’t even realise they were considering sending over a police officer as part of the Kumar investigation,” he said as they began to ascend the stairs. Brooke’s had pulled out his phone to text Carter the words ‘Bordey at station, get here now’. She would have killed him if he hadn’t told her as soon as possible. “I’m Brookes by the way. Detective Sergeant Brookes, I believe you spoke to my colleague DC Carter a couple of days back.”

Bordey was looking a little distracted and just nodded in response to his introduction. Brookes pressed on, “She and I performed some of the interviews with the family, so it is likely we’ll be working together.”

“Oh, um, actually we solved that case. Well not so much solved as the person came in and confessed,” that was quite a confession as well, because now Brookes knew she had no official business being here – despite the impression she had desperately been trying to give the receptionist downstairs. She seemed to realise her mistake, “Uh, Richard and I do know each other though and I thought it would be polite to come and say hello.” He noticed she left out providing him with the actual reason she was in the UK.

He couldn’t help himself, and he reckoned Carter would be quite proud of him for his next question. “Straight from the airport?” He asked, indicating her case with a gesture of his head.

Rather than embarrassed though, she looked a little defiant – perhaps catching on the fact he was having a little fun at her expense, “Yes, straight from the airport.” Holding her head up, she didn’t wait for him to open to door marked CID just marched straight in.

 

* * *

 

 

Camille was pretty pissed off. In her head, she had imagined Richard looking up from his desk, smiling at the realisation that she was here, and then gathering her up in his arms and kissing her thoroughly. Yes, a ridiculously romantic and twee imagining – but surely that sort of thing wasn’t just restricted to fiction.

Sadly it was not to be – for Richard did look up from his desk, realise that she was there – and frown. He then stood, walked into the main part of the office and asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I, uh, thought I’d come see you,” she said haltingly.

“What for?”

Camille glanced at the Brookes fellow who was still standing next to her, and cringing slightly. Clearly he was familiar with Richard’s moods as well. “Well, I wanted to see you, though I am seriously questioning why right now. I was given the impression that you might appreciate a visit as well.”

“When did I _ever_ say that? Even if I did, I mean, you turning up unexpectedly like this, what am I supposed to do? I do have a CID to run Camille - I can’t just take the day off to play tour guide!” He’d crossed his arms and was glaring. Camille was vaguely aware that other officers were arriving and taking seats at their desks, all the while trying to look like they weren’t watching their boss fight with a strange woman in the centre of the bullpen.

“Really? Because your staff seem to think you spend an awful lot of time moping in your office,” she spat out. Brookes coughed uncomfortably next to her, and Camille felt a little guilty possibly getting Carter into a lot of trouble.

“I DO _NOT_ MOPE!” Richard exploded and Camille almost smiled, it reminded her of all the times he had denied being grumpy. “And even if I was moping, what makes you think I would be moping over _you_?”

She threw her arms in the air, “Of course I wouldn’t think that! I imagine you forgot about me, I mean _us_ \- ARGH - Saint Marie, you would have forgotten about Saint Marie the second you got back to your precious London!”

“Of course I didn’t, you always bloody accuse me of being heartless.”

“Yeah, well perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy for me to make that mistake – not that I am sure yet it is a mistake – if your reaction to my arrival hadn’t been so negative!”

 

* * *

 

 

After it became clear the argument was not going to end anytime soon, Brookes had backed off a little and perched on the edge of his desk. Since he had shown DS Bordey up here, and she was officially here as his escorted visitor, it pretty much gave him free reign to watch the argument proceed. Of course, that is what everyone in the room was doing – the pair was so engrossed in their fight they had failed to notice this was the case.

Carter, a little out of breath probably from legging it up the stairs, suddenly appeared next to him. Taking in the couple, a massive smile slowly spread across her face. “How long have they been fighting?” she asked in a whisper.

“Pretty much from the second she walked in the office so, oh, 12 to 15 minutes,” he informed her.

“She’s feisty,” Carter said, still grinning. “And hot. I wouldn’t say no.” She noticed Brookes staring at her in mild alarm. “I’m not going to cheat on you with her!” She reassured him. “Besides, I think she might only have eyes for one person anyway.”

“Well of course you don’t need me as an added distraction,” Camille was shouting now. “I’m sure you already have plenty of pretty blondes trying to distract you every day. Why would you want to have to pay _me,_ your _friend_ , any attention?”

“Now I don’t even know what you are talking about!”

“Well, cluelessness regarding women does seem to be your default state.”

“Not all _women_ just…” The Chief Inspector suddenly paused, his eyes came to rest on Carter next to him. Carter stared gamely back at her superior. “You,” he finished. Camille looked puzzled, probably unsure if he was referring to her or Carter – since that was the person he was looking at as he said it. DCI Poole glanced around the room, suddenly realising how much disturbance the fight was causing. Brookes half expected him to flush with embarrassment and leave the room, but instead he looked resolute. He marched over to his office, opened the door and pointed inside.

Camille stood her ground for a few moments. “Get in!” DCI Poole snapped, and Brookes didn’t know if she was responding to the command in his tone, or because she realised they shouldn’t be quite so public with their fight, but she did storm into the office – dragging the case behind her.

Poole shut the door firmly, and then surprised everyone further by pulling down the blind on his window. The whole office leaned forward in anticipation of the fight continuing, but instead the irate voice of the Chief Inspector shouted, “DO SOME BLOODY POLICE WORK YOU LOT!”

“I’ve believe we’ve been told,” Brookes said to Carter, as he circled round to sir behind his desk and boot up the PC.

 

* * *

 

 

Richard knew that Camille would want to continue her rant as soon as he shut the door, and no doubt it would be at a volume that would be heard in the bullpen. He held up a hand and gave her a significant look, which luckily she heeded for once in her life. He was right, there was silence from the bullpen, the whole bloody lot of them were hoping to keep listening in. He shouted out instructions to let them know they weren’t going to get away with it, and then turned back to Camille.

Having heeded his first request for silence, she opened her mouth furiously and Richard knew it would take more than the raising of a hand to get her be quiet this time. Luckily he knew exactly how he was going to shut her up. Camille did manage to get one syllable out, but he would never know what it was she intended to say, because he got a hand on either side of her face and pressed his mouth to hers. Camille let out a little squeak of surprise and her palms came up to his chest. Richard thought she was going to push him off, prepared for it, but instead she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer.

Taking that as an indication his attentions were welcome, Richard pushed Camille against a filing cabinet (something he had often fantasised about doing back at the station on Saint Marie) and continued to kiss her. “I really missed you,” he broke off momentarily to say. He thought Camille might have tried to say something similar, but couldn’t quite get it out when he was kissing her so thoroughly.  

 

* * *

 

 

After a significant period where no sound could be detected from the office, people had started to lose interest. Carter still looked at the door to her boss’ office every now and then, hoping to get some sort of clue as to what was going on. She was rewarded for her continued attentions when the sound of something smashing – possibly a mug or other similar sized item – was heard from inside the office. Brookes, who had been pretending he also wasn’t desperate to know what was going on, looked up sharply at the sound.

“You don’t think one of them has killed the other, do you?” Brookes asked her.

Carter gave him a wicked little grin, “Perhaps it just got broken when they were clearing the desk for other activities.”

“Carter!” He protested, looking faintly sickened by the idea. “He would _never_ do something so unprofessional!”

“Love does funny things to people,” Carter pointed out. Brookes nodded his acknowledgement to that truth, but still looked like he hoped she hadn’t been right about the whole desk clearing business. “I believe we might need a plan.”

“A plan for what?”

She just smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

Smashing his (thankfully now cold) mug of tea snapped them back to reality. No matter what desires he might have in that regard, there was no way Richard was actually going to take things any further in his office, not with the whole of CID just beyond the door. By mutual agreement they both moved away from each other and took a few moments to catch their respective breaths.

“You know that bit where I said I had a CID to run, regrettably I’m afraid that is still true,” he told her.

“But you’re the boss,” she protested. “Can’t you just take the day off?”

Richard didn’t bother to answer that, just gave her a look. She immediately tried another tact, “Pretend you are ill?”

“To a room full of detectives? You think that would work, do you?”

She sighed in defeat, “I suppose it would be unlikely to.”

“Besides, I have the joy of staff reviews all day. I feel rather like I’d be letting people down if I cancelled. I promise I will get out of work as soon as I possibly can, possibly by giving everyone a glowing review.” He was actually seriously considering it. “I am sure I can rustle up an officer to drop you off somewhere.”

“I don’t suppose I could just stay here?”

“It is already going to be a challenge to get any work done, I think you remaining here would make it damn near impossible.”

“Are you calling me a distraction?” She said with a smile, referencing their earlier fight.

“In the nicest possible way, yes I am.” He paused, taking a moment to let his eyes roam over her again, and couldn’t keep the smile off her his face. “You might want to straighten up a little before we leave the office…”

“It isn’t just me,” she said, leaning in and putting his tie back into position.

Richard knew they really needed to walk through the doors within the next couple of minutes, his first review would be in a quarter of an hour. He mentally prepared himself to ignore the smirking he thought was almost inevitable, and then walked purposefully to the door and opened it for Camille. She walked out into the bullpen with an air of professionalism he was envious of.

“Sir!” Carter came hurrying up to him. “I realise we have a review today, but I believe it is protocol to delay these things in favour of criminal investigations, yes? Because I am afraid most of CID is now busy, in fact I think you might have to cancel _all_ your reviews today.”

“Carter if there has been an incident of that magnitude why didn’t you fetch me?” He snatched the papers out of her hands, assuming there was a murder or other serious crime to investigate. But none of the reports he glanced through were anything like that.

“Oh well, Sir, you see they aren’t crimes that necessarily require the particular attentions of a Detective Chief Inspector, but they should be investigated nether-the-less.”

“You are going to look into some minor vandalism to a car?” Richard asked, having finished analysing the reports.

“Yes, Sir, the owner is _very_ upset.”

“Miller,” Richard called across the office to the young DC who was putting his coat on. “Where are you going?”

“There has been a theft from the corner shop, Chief Inspector,” Miller said seriously.

“Oh? And what was the approximate value of the items taken?”

Richard knew Miller wouldn’t dare lie. “20p. I believe it was a packet of Snaps, Sir.”

“Lee?”

“Somebody set off some fireworks after the 10pm curfew last night.”

“Winters?” He asked, wondering what minor incident she had found to occupy herself.

“Fraud sir,” Winters informed him. Richard found it oddly comforting there was at least one crime being investigated actually worthy of CID involvement. “An amateur lepidopterist may be selling moths he claims are a Japanese subspecies, but the complainant believes they actually originate from Korea.” But then again…

Richard couldn’t look at Camille, because he could sense how hard she was trying not to burst into laughter. He knew if he caught her eye they may both end up in hysterics. He knew _exactly_ what his staff were up to, and it was actually sort of touching.

“Sir, I would offer to help DS Bordey with her enquiries into the Kumar murder, but I’m afraid the prosecuting barrister for an upcoming court case I am due to testify in is insisting I see him to prepare today,” Brookes told him. This rather confused Richard though.

“Kumar case?”

“Yes, that is why DS Bordey is here, I signed her in as a visiting police officer. We have been helping her with the Roger Kumar murder that occurred on Saint Marie.” Richard was pretty sure that wasn’t why Camille was here, surely she would have mentioned it earlier, but now she seemed to be nodding significantly as if what Brookes had said was correct.

“It’s a shame, I could really use somebody local to help orientate me,” She said, even managing to look a bit frustrated with her situation.

“Well, Sir, I think that it would be perfectly acceptable for you to assist an officer from another force in such an important investigation,” Carter said seriously. “Especially since you already have experience working together. If you need to, say, leave the station we could always call if anything came up.”

Richard let out a long breath, “I think you might be correct, Detective Constable. Come on DS Bordey, I will take you to your hotel first so you can drop off your bag.”

Camille winced, “I don’t actually have a hotel.”

Why did she have to point that out in front of everyone? “Well you can stay with me,” he said as he walked her towards the exit. Noticing the knowing looks exchanged by his colleagues he added loudly, “I have a spare room.”

Once the door to the bullpen was shut behind them, he turned to Camille with a smile and said, “Which I have no intention of you using…”

**Author's Note:**

> I had trouble getting this thing to bloody end. 
> 
> 05.03.2014: Decided to follow this up with a sequel!


End file.
